


Rain

by duskblue, wolfdancer333



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-04-14 08:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14131983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duskblue/pseuds/duskblue, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfdancer333/pseuds/wolfdancer333
Summary: Imagine your OTP getting stuck in the rain.Person A wants to kiss Person B like in the movies, Person B just wants to go home cause they’re cold and miserable but they let Person A kiss them quickly anyway.





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I deviated a wee bit from the prompt, but not much! ;) This is a joint sort of piece with Duskblue! We’re doing this writing prompt thing and so this was born. ;)

Like most people, Branch hated Mondays. Actually, he hated everyday equally but Mondays really drove him up the wall. Why? Well, it wasn’t just Mondays, it was _this_ particular Monday in late June. He stared at the steel bars of the large gate, eyes blank, and determined he really shouldn’t have come. He hadn’t visited her in 2 years what was the point in visiting now? But something compelled the tall, black haired man to shoulder open the gate and step onto the familiar gravel path. The gate squeaked closed behind him and he lifted his head back to look at the cloudy, gray sky with a glare.

Even the fucking weather was against him! If there was anything Branch hated more than Monday, it was rain. Rain caused people to get sick! Well, actually, the stupidity of people caused people to get sick….But it was the rain that seeped into their skin and stole their warmth like a dwindling flame. It was rain that caused depression, forcing someone to stay inside until they lost their minds. Branch scowled as he jerked the hood of his hoodie up above his big ears and stuffed his hands into the middle pocket, slouching forward along the path he didn’t even need to see. He had walked it so many times, he couldn’t forget it.

No matter how hard he had tried.

He stared around the desolate, empty hills that held nothing but silence. Silence and the smell of the grass as it prepared for rain and did Branch mention he _hates_ rain? He kicked a large pebble off the path and sadistically grinned when he heard a bird chirp in annoyance. He walked steadily, letting his eyes rove the place he had spent countless days – and nights, though the patrols never knew about those – in his childhood.

A light, foggy mist tickled the ground but Branch just kept walking. The trees were lush and green creating a serene scene that hid the dark, morbidity of the actual truth. This place was anything but serene. He clenched his hands into fists so hard he felt his nails break the fragile skin of his palm. This place was horrible with it’s green trees, rolling hills, fountain in the dead centre that the children usually played in, and the scattered benches where he remembered spending days licking ice cream cones with –

Nope, fuck, not going down that road, not today! But even though he assured himself, the flash of pink hair and magenta eyes haunted him down that gravel path until he veered off to the right, off the path and towards the largest, oldest oak tree in the entire park.

He felt the blood pooling in his fists and with blank, pain-etched eyes, Branch bent slowly to the ground. He lifted a bloodied hand out to touch the worn, cold gray stone, whispering, “Hi Grandma.”

A light, cool breeze wafted through the park-cemetery and ruffled Branch’s black locks. If he wasn’t a pessimistic dickhead he could let himself believe that the wind was his Grandma’s hand on his head, like she used to do when he was younger, when he was happier…..But he _was_ a pessimistic dickhead so he didn’t dare believe his grandma was anything but dead, dead, dead. Dead as the day the 14 year old watched her be slowly lowered into this very plot. The day his soul faded to an empty gray and the rain never stopped falling inside his heart.

It rained the day she died. It rained the day he buried her. It was about to rain now the first time he came back to this fucking, stupid piece-of-crap town to visit her in over 12 years. Branch couldn’t escape the rain, he couldn’t escape it’s cold grip on him, and with a roar, he slammed his fist into the softened Earth. Then again. And again. Until he couldn’t stop, even when his knuckles throbbed and he was cursing with every hit. Not even when he felt the snake-like mist wrap around his body, white and cool, and even when the gray clouds darkened.

He collapsed, finally, onto his knees with tightly closed ice blue eyes and a firmly clasped jaw. He could hear his teeth rubbing together and his hands couldn’t unclench from the fists. For a moment, he sat there, breathing heavily through his nostrils, eyes closed tight and jaw grinding.

_She’s gone Branch, get the fuck over it. She’s gone….And it’s all your fault._

There were so many emotions building up inside him and when he threw his head back, he let out a loud roar of pain before his eyes fell to that cold stone. Cold. His grandma had always been warm, happy, smiling. She didn’t deserve to be in that plot of Earth with that horrible gray reminder all that was left of her. It should have been Branch in that hole. It should have been….! But it wasn’t and Branch finally felt the hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

“Well, fuck. Not like I’m ever coming back here anyway….This is it Grandma. I’m never coming back, so what’s a few fucking tears from your worthless grandson, huh?”

And then they weren’t just tears. Branch felt his heart leap into his throat and the sobs that tore from his vocal folds were ones of a deep, soul-aching pain. But the park-cemetery – who even made a park and cemetery the same thing!? - was empty. No one was there to hear the shattering soul or the broken heart and to be honest, Branch was fucking grateful. As soon as his sobs tore free, he heard the thunder echoing his own sounds.

He stared with blurry eyes at the writing on the stone and let his clenched hands slowly unfurl.

_“Grandma” Rosiepuff_

_June 24, 1926 – June 24, 2018_

_A Grandmother to all of Troll Village._

_She will be dearly missed._

_Rest beneath the boughs of the Troll Tree,_

_And always find your way back._

He let his now free fingers glide over the etched words of the date of her death. As if thrown back in time, Branch was lost to his own memories of that day.

It was her birthday. It was raining. And stupid fucking Branch had to go and forget his gift at school in his fucking locker. He couldn’t have waited until tomorrow. He wanted to show her the gift, show her he loved her like she loved him, show her he was grateful for her. He remembered begging her - “Please, Grams? If it’s not on your birthday, it doesn’t get count.” - and he remembered her voice, still so clear after so many years - “Okay Branch! Let’s go. And we can drop by the park and get some ice-cream too, how about that?” And his 14 year old response, “Do I look like I’m 5 to you?”

The laughter haunted him for moment, swirling around his mind on repeat.

He remembered his cobalt blue raincoat and teal blue boots. He remembered with a snarl the sound of the car starting – a beaten up piece of shit that barely drove and sounded like a train – and the way the tires squealed on the wet pavement as they pulled away. He remembered being in the back and fuck, why did he sit back there? He always sat up front, always. But no, he wanted to be an angsty little fuck and he was too old to sit with his Grandma in the front seat.

Then that stupid song – Eclipse of the Fucking Heart – had come on and the radio was too low for Branch to sing. He wanted her to turn it up, he wanted to sing. But he was a stupid shit and he didn’t stop to think that his 92 Grandma didn’t have the best sight or that she had accidentally run a red light trying to turn the volume up. But no matter what he did or didn’t forget, he knew the one thing he would die remembering: that scream of his name that made him go numb, that still rung in his ears.

The screeching of the truck, their car turning and tossing, and the rain. He remembered the smell of it, overpowering the smell of blood and metal and fire. Branch hadn’t realized he was fisting the grass until he ripped up chunks but his eyes were fast closed and he couldn’t open them, stuck in his memories. Of the sirens and the people. Of seeing his grandma in the front seat and wondering why she wasn’t moving, wondering why the radio was distorted, why there were people shouting and screaming.

He remembered Mayor Peppy’s voice and _her_ voice calling for him. But all he could see was his grandma bent over that steering wheel, her arm out, and with a jolt, he realized her arm, her hand grasping his raincoat, was the only thing holding him in the back seat. He went to move her arm, uttering a quiet grandma, wondering why she wasn’t moving – dead, dead, dead.

He remembered touching her back and she lolled to the side, her side twisted and Branch didn’t notice the blood at first – after all these years, he could still feel it on his hands. All he noticed were those wide open, unseeing eyes as they looked right at him. He remembered shaking her, his voice rising more and more into a wail, before he was jerked from the car and into arms that held him tightly. He cried and sobbed and screamed into that shoulder where pink tresses tickled his nose and the smell of watermelon and cotton candy filled his nostrils.

They had pulled her from the car but Branch knew, holding tight to Poppy’s hand and watching his Grandma’s unmoving body that she was gone. The round Mayor Peppy looked back at him with soft, symphatehtic eyes so much like his daughter and Branch felt the cold gray swallow him whole. Everyone said he didn’t but he did. He killed his grandma. For what? A fucking gift. A song. The rain was dangerous and why the hell would –

“Branch?”

He wasn’t sure if it was the way he froze or the spot she recognized but a moment later, he felt her hand on his shoulder, squeezing firmly. “It’s been a long time, huh bud? Well, for you. I mean, I come here all the time! To say hi! And Dad does too. Actually the whole town does and oh just last year we held a little –“

“I’m not in the mood for your shit today, Poppy!”

She was instantly quiet and Branch didn’t give a fuck. She could go huff off and maybe this time she would get the hint and leave him the hell alone.

“You never responded to my invitations.” Or not.

Branch’s eyes went wide and he turned to look up at her with an exasperated frown. “Those glittery atrocities were from you? Of course they were. Felt, glitter. Should have known; it had Poppy written all over it.”

“It did, really!? I didn’t write –“

He sighed and began to unsteadily rise to his feet. Poppy’s hand on his shoulder fell to his arm and the warmth from her gave him a bit more strength. “Sarcasm. I thought you were getting better when I left….What –“

“Ice-cream!”

He yelped when her grip turned deadly tight and the tiny slip of a girl pulled him, dragging, behind her. He had to lean down slightly so she could even actually reach him and he stared after the girl he had known since they were babies. Her pink locks were longer and thicker. He didn’t even want to know when she had made the felt flower headband that wrapped around her. She was wearing light blue jeans, her usual rainbow sneakers, and a bright pink hoodie.

She was taller now, leaner, but with a smirk he reached up a finger to poke her side. Her squeal made him chuckle and she smacked his finger away. “Yes I’m still ticklish, don’t even Branch! I know your weak spots!”

Branch raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She dragged them down the gravel path with no hesitation. When he saw the familiar parked white truck off to the side of the path, he pulled back and Poppy stopped. Looking back, she must have seen his face because she gripped his arm.

“Branch, buddy, hey it’s okay. It’s just ice-cream. I’ll buy you double chocolate?” Her grin was infuriating.

His blush said everything and she giggled, pulling him up to the ice cream truck and he frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. He saw the quickly moving, darkening clouds as the man in the truck prepared their orders – he didn’t need to listen to know what she had ordered: double chocolate for him with two strawberries on top and a rainbow ice cream with sprinkles, gummi bears, and three pumps of strawberry and caramel sauces – and Branch’s mouth tilted downwards. It was going to rain.

As soon as Poppy had their orders in hand, Branch ushered her along and barely giving her enough time to pay the guy before she was pattering behind him. Branch kept a close watch on the sky as he herded them towards the sheltered gazebo next to the fountain in the middle of the park.

“Uh, Branch…..”

At her wide eyes, he followed her gaze to a couple of feet behind them just in time to see the sheets of rain falling onto Troll Town. With a curse, he grabbed her arm gently and pulled her along, the both of them racing towards the gazebo. Poppy’s giggles made him shout incredulously, “We’re about to be pelted by a huge ass rain storm and you’re laughing!?”

“I love the rain!”

As soon as they were inside the gazebo, Branch leaned over his knees, panting, and he heard Poppy settling down onto the stone floor of the gazebo. It was circular and not very big but he desperately looked anywhere but at her as he straightened up. He would rather fucking stand than sit that close to her. But then she said the taboo words, “I guess I’ll have to eat this double chocolate ice-cream all by myself then….”

“You get your fingers off my ice-cream.”

With a flop, he was sitting next to her, nestling out the storm as he grabbed his ice-cream and a spoon she held out to him, shovelling in a few mouthfuls with a glare. Poppy only grinned and settled against him, their legs laid out in front of them and their arms touching. He had almost forgotten how she smelled but there was no way to get rid of the imprint of her now. Her sweet scent had occupied one too many of his dreams as a teen and with a flush, he remembered his grand declaration to Poppy in front of her Dad and his Grandma, _“One day, Poppy and I are gonna get married!”_

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was scarfing down her concoction with a speed that had him feeling sick and he set his ice-cream down, no longer feeling the gooey, cold treat. He pulled one knee up to his chest and watched the falling rain. Everything was soaked. Water dripped and poured from every crevice, crack, and hole. The trees were glittering and Branch could see the heavy drops hitting the ground with a visible pop.

“Do you ever just wanna go back sometimes? To when we were kids?”

Branch jumped, surprised to hear the soft tone of her voice. Poppy wasn’t _ever_ quiet. “No, why the fuck would I want that?”

She only continued to stare out at the rain, her head cocked to the side, but he was thankful – no, not thankful, not thankful!! - he didn’t see any sadness on her features. She was too beau – Okay no more ice-cream, the sweetness was making him delirious.

“We knew what we wanted back then, and….” She smiled softly. “And it was easier to get it. To know that we wanted it.”

Branch was confused. Poppy confused him, a lot – okay, all the time – but this was new. This was a contemplative Poppy. And contemplative Poppy he didn’t know how to deal with so he coughed awkwardly and tried to give her the best advice he could. “Nothing’s changed. It’s just what you want has changed. And it’s become harder to get what you wanted.”

Poppy blinked and then asked him, bluntly and causing his head to reel, “Why didn’t you accept my invitations?”

Branch opened and closed his mouth, trying to say something, anything, but what could he say? The truth: I never came to a single one of your parties or reunions or what the fuck nots because I’m an asshole? Yeah he could say that….Glancing at her, his breath caught. She was staring rather softly at the rain, almost forlorn but not quite, and her smile was not the beaming grin he was used to. This smile was gentle, lilting, and not at all the rainbows and cupcakes girl he remembered leaving behind.

“I kept them all.”

WHAT!? Branch paused, frozen, eyes wide. He did NOT just say that!? And not to Poppy! Oh fuck! So he just admitted to the girl he had loved since he opened his eyes that he kept all 12 year invitations – something close to like 800 of them, but he definitely wasn’t counting! - and she was silent. Was that good or bad?

“Hey Branch….Do you still hate the rain?”

His mind stopped working and his heart dropped to his feet. He looked out at the falling drops and remembered his Grandma, remembered the screaming between him and the girl next to him, soaked, and tears pouring from her eyes as he walked out of Troll Town for the last time. That had been so long ago. And now, she wanted answers. Was he ready to give them to her?

“Yeah.” He answered softly, afraid his voice would crack.

As he saw the rain beginning lighten up, Branch began to stand as he told the girl he loved for a second time, “Well, it was great. But I gotta go back to Bergan Town now. Have a great life, Poppy.”

Rain or not, he was getting the fuck out of there before he did something stupid! But he was rooted to the spot when he had just reached the edge of the gazebo and Poppy threw herself out and into the rain, her arms spread wide to keep him from running. With a snarl, he yanked her dripping, shivering form back under the gazebo’s shelter and threw his hoodie over his head with lightning speed. His black tee stuck to his skin but he didn’t care. Using his hoodie, Branch hurriedly dabbed at Poppy’s wet form.

He couldn’t help the angry bite, “Why did you do that for!? You’re gonna get sick, Poppy, for fucks sake!”

She said nothing but only shivered and it wasn’t until he finally looked down and met her eyes that the world stopped spinning.

The first thing he registered was that the rain was still falling. He could hear it’s familiar, yet much softer, pitter-patter as it hit the ground. The second thing he registered were the cold, wet hands gripping his cheeks and the bottom of his jaw. The third most unbelievable and heart pounding thing were the soft, warm lips pressed against his own. It took a total deduction of 2 seconds before Branch groaned – he had lost the war a long time ago – and grabbed Poppy’s hips, bringing her flush against him.

And he titled his head, kissing her deeper and she responded by stroking her thumbs over his cheek bones. He never noticed when the sun started breaking through the clouds or the gentle rain slowly fading to nothing. He never noticed his hoodie drop from Poppy’s shoulders to the floor. All he could feel was her and when she finally pulled away, leaving a hairs breadth between them, he finally opened his eyes to the Sun, her smile all cupcakes and rainbows and happiness.

“What about now?”

Her breathless question stirred him to life and the gray rain clouds finally, years later, fled from that teen boy’s eyes. Branch smiled, pure and wide, and brought an arm around her waist to lift her slightly off the ground. Her eyes went wide and she squeaked, wrapping her arms around his neck as their lips grazed each other’s gently.

Branch didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. She already knew. With a desperation he hadn’t known until now, Branch leaned down that last gap and brought his lips to hers in a firm, unyielding kiss. His happiness had never been inside him. It had always been with the pink-haired girl who was now kissing him with everything she had. And yeah, okay, so maybe the rain wasn’t _that_ bad and maybe he could learn to love it after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope everyone enjoys these little things ^_^


End file.
